Misty Morning

"The damp stands on the long green grass As thick as morning's tears, And dreamy scents of fragrance pass That breathe of other years." - Emily Jane Brontë, Mild the mist upon the hill From the band's webpage: 'The forest was colossal, wet and really old. Coiling branches embraced most trees, and a medley of flowers, which desperately tried to avoid the shadows, added colorful, scented elements to the otherwise unchanging view. A variety of animal noises added life to the forest, and were strangely in harmony with the occasional sounds of breaking twigs beneath the feet of larger animals. The Wayfarer was resting next to the last tree of the forest, watching the mist rolling through the valley. A perfect morning to contemplate on one's life.'